


bright lights and hurricanes

by Care



Category: Titanic RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-21
Updated: 2012-08-21
Packaged: 2017-11-12 15:00:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/492456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Care/pseuds/Care
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wondering and hoping and everything through the years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	bright lights and hurricanes

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the RPF Ficathon on Livejournal. Prompt by babykid528: _You make me nostalgic for a love that hasn't even happened yet._

When Leo lays his head in her lap, it's no longer a surprise anymore. Nothing about him surprises her, least of all his touch. Instead she leans forward, threading her fingers through his cornsilk hair, and lets her own copper ringlets fall forward to curtain them from the rest of the crew. He smiles up at her, the corners of his mouth curving upwards, before he shuts his eyes. Kate brushes her thumb against the point of his chin and his own hand comes up to cradle hers.

"Thanks, sweetie," he murmurs, the words slurring with exhaustion, and she feels warm all over.

Sometimes, when they finish a rehearsal, Kate wonders what it'd be like to kiss him for real. To have his mouth on hers, pressed up against a wall, his hands grappling with buttons and skirts and sliding up her thigh. To do it without cameras circling them. She tries not to dwell on it, because it's probably just hormones, and they're stuck on the coast of Mexico without anyone else and no prospect of sex, so of course she's resorted to fantasizing about him. Which can't happen. Obviously.

(For the record, she's pretty sure he'd be good at it.)

The kiss he gives her when they wrap filming is chaste, close-mouthed, on the lips. She clings to his shoulders for a second too long and his eyes follow hers, fever-bright, but he's swept away in more congratulatory hugs before they can say anything.

He hands her a paper cup of champagne when he comes back around and they knock them together in a toast. The bubbles tickle the back of her throat.

"Congratulations," he says, the word light and soft on his tongue.

"You too," she says, and wonders if what they're really saying is goodbye.

*

He knocks her back with the force of his kisses during Revolutionary Road, the length of his body hard and unyielding. He forces her against the kitchen counter, his mouth furious and tension making his shoulders quake beneath her hands. Kate's trying too hard to make it look convincing; she doesn't realize until afterwards that her mouth feels bruised and sore and she's shaking too, hard enough that someone fetches her a cup of tea.

Part of her is so afraid that her husband will notice the way she looks at Leo through the camera lens. Part of her doesn't care. She's not sure which part is worse.

"Sorry, babe," Leo whispers in her ear, sliding his arm around her waist. He gives her a squeeze and lets go.

Kate twists her wedding ring and wonders how gently he would kiss her if he had her in bed, his lips warm on her skin. If his skin would taste the same. If he would fuck her hard and fast, or slow and steady. She doesn't have the excuse of Mexico this time, of isolated filming and crazy directors. This time it's all on her.

She thinks about these things and she smiles at Sam and she doesn't say a thing.

*

"Why did we wait so long?" he asks, pressing her into the mattress with his kisses.

Kate laughs, bright and sunny and languorous, and opens her mouth beneath his. "I don't know," she answers. "I don't know."

(His kisses are deep and thorough; his skin tastes like salt.)


End file.
